Well, having found myself with a bit of extra spare time lately, I decided to take a suggestion (from Silly, I think?) and post a short story for you all to read.

I originally wrote this about nine years ago for a college composition class. My professor liked it so much she gave me an "A" and decided never to return it, LOL. So I've now re-written it with a bit of additional polish in hopes of making it seem less amateur-ish.

The story takes place in a fantasy world I created during my teens for my friends and I to use for our AD&D sessions.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.
***************************************************************************INHERITANCE
-A short story by Jim "Qmaus" Stromberg-

Lei'uri walked swiftly through the brightly lit streets, fixed on her destination. As she neared the tavern, a frown crossed her features. Soldiers of the Imperial Guard were outside the door and that could mean only one thing: she was late. Pausing for a moment to regain her posture, she brushed her red tresses away from her face and moved to the door. At her approach, one of the guards moved to block her way.

"No bonds tonight, m'lady. You'll need to check your weapons here with our clerk. You may retrieve them when you leave. Just so you know, the tavern's been shielded from spell casting tonight as well."

"I would expect nothing less," nodded Lei'uri. She handed the guard a rolled parchment and started removing the flail hanging from her belt.

The guard read over the parchment, "Summoned by Jarik himself, I see. Well, he and the others have already arrived. I'm sure they're eager for your company."

Lei'uri gave her name and flail to the nearby clerk, received her claim voucher and walked through the door into the crowded room. The imperial guards had strategically positioned themselves around the place, their ever-watchful eyes noting every motion, every word; every breath of the tavern patrons. She followed their positioning and made her way to a table in the rear occupied by a motley trio of men talking and drinking calmly. As she came close, one of the men, a foppish youth with infinite mirth in his eyes, looked up at her.

"Why priestess Lei'uri," he chuckled, "I'd have thought the cliche about women being fashionably late would be beneath you."

Lei'uri smiled at him. "Good to see you, too, Donnar." She then turned towards one of the other men, a richly clad gentleman with an air of authority about him.

"My apologies, Prince Jarik, I was delayed by business at the temple. As I'm sure you can imagine, we've had a larger number of visitors these past few days. People are coming in droves to pray that their new emperor will reign well. The passing of your father and your imminent ascension to the throne is a change, and change makes people anxious. Anxious people visit temples."

Lei'uri giggled and seated herself in the table's remaining chair. At Jarik's gesture, she poured herself a glass of wine from the carafe. She then looked up at the prince expectantly.

Jarik leaned in closer to the table and began to speak.

"I have spent much of my life so far an ignorant fool. Contented with my lavish lifestyle, I rarely gave thought to the responsibilities my future would hold. That changed when my father first took ill. At that point I suddenly realized that the Empire of Naerey would soon be seeing me upon its throne. Fortunately, my father managed to remain in this world long enough to give me the time I required to observe, to think, and to plan."

Jarik took a sip from his wine glass and sat back in his chair as his companions patiently waited for him to continue.

"For over two centuries now," he ranted, "the Naereyic emperors have ruled as tyrants. They have been greedy, merciless, soulless madmen; entirely self-serving and quick to wrath. They have executed people with impunity, sometimes only because they were bored and wished for some entertainment. The populace was cowed into obedience and for generations their children fated to share their suffering as each wicked emperor was replaced by an equally wicked heir. As you know, this tyranny was costly."

"When Emperor Stehgel began warring against the nations to the west in his endless quest to expand his rule, his mad power lust caused a rift between my family and our cousins in the house of Imviaad. King Palinn of Imviaad was old and he could recall the days when the empire was great; a force for justice bringing hope to the entire continent. There was a time when the emperors of Naerey were adored, a time when they stood strong against the machinations of evil men. King Palinn saw that the emperors had changed. They had become the very monsters that their ancestors had so valiantly defied. When Palinn's concerns were dismissed by Emperor Stehgel, the house of Imviaad seceded from the empire and determined to squelch the insanity that had overtaken the imperial throne. This was the beginning of The Great War that decimated our continent and, by its end, reduced this empire to one-sixth of its former size."

"The time has come to end the petty wickedness that has plagued these lands for so long. I have decided that under my rule, the empire should return to its former glory; a bright star championing justice and good will. It will be a daunting task to change things, which is why I have gathered you three, my closest friends, here this evening. I need your help. This is not something that I can hope to accomplish alone."

"What do you need us to do for you, Jarik?" asked Lei'uri.

Jarik took a moment to look around the haze of the tavern. Catching the attention of the serving wench, he indicated his desire for another carafe of wine. He then took a deep breath and continued in a hushed voice.

"I intend to repair our ties with Imviaad. They carried on the way my predecessors should have. If my cousin King Duret is willing to forget the past and accept me as an ally, the citizenry will see that change is coming, and their newfound hope may help to accomplish things faster."

"That's a bold dream, friend," chimed Donnar, "But not so easily accomplished. Do you think that Duret will simply welcome you with his arms spread wide? Your father plotted against him, your grandfather sought to deceive his father. Ever since King Palinn set himself against your family, your fathers have proven themselves unable to be trusted by the kings of Imviaad. King Duret will be immediately suspicious of any olive branch you offer him."

Just then, the serving wench tripped as she approached their table. The carafe full of wine crashed to the floor along with various utensils and glassware in a terrible cacophony. Bits of broken pottery and glass scattered everywhere. Jarik looked down and noticed that the wine splashes had left a stain on the leg of his trousers.

The serving wench's face paled when she saw the result. She dropped to the floor on her knees, her features twisted into a portrait of sheer terror. Unable to find her voice, she merely looked up at Jarik, her entire body trembling, tears streaming from her eyes.

Jarik turned toward her. "Don't fret over an accident, miss. I'm sure our city has at least one pauper who will be happy to have new trousers, even if they're stained with wine. Best bring two carafes on your way back, though. We'll be quite parched in the interim."

The wench, obviously shocked, slowly pulled herself to her feet and nodded to Jarik, then hurried off to fetch the wine.

"There, you see?" said Donnar, "You will be judged not according to your character, but according to your blood, Jarik. That wench was expecting punishments from you that defy imagination. How do you expect to convince King Duret of your sincerity?"

Jarik flashed a sly grin. "Well, I thought I'd convince a bard named Donnar to put his silver tongue to use as my diplomat in that matter."

Donnar sighed heavily. "Heh, dad always said I'd have an easier life if I became a blacksmith. I think you just proved him correct. I will do my best for you, Jarik. Hopefully your good cousin won't have me hanged the moment I enter his court."

"Not just Duret," said Jarik, "I need you to represent me before the League of Free Nations as well. Make certain they understand that I'm not a threat. I will not make any attempt to reclaim their lands. Those lands are lost to the empire and I accept that. I need them to trust that I will not threaten their sovereignty."

Jarik then turned to Orryn and Lei'uri. "While Donnar is abroad, I'll need you two helping me with matters here at home. Evil rulers attract an evil entourage. There will be people here at court that will not be happy with my plans for the empire; most notably Velte, our Grand Vizier."

"Velte!" cried Donnar, "Hah! I wouldn't worry about him at all. He's been Grand Vizier since your grandfather was on the throne. Velte is older than the hills and his time is past. He'll be dead soon enough."

Orryn sat up at that remark. "No, Velte will be around for some time yet, Donnar. We wizards have a nasty little habit of using magic to extend our life spans. And I agree with Jarik, Velte is a threat to his plans. In my early years I was apprenticed to him and I know his nature. Velte is an incredibly powerful wizard and his mind is twisted. He delights in treachery and deceit. He has often encouraged and applauded the sadistic actions of our two former emperors, spurring them on to increasingly vile deeds with glee. He won't be amenable to change and will seek to undermine your efforts, Jarik. He must be dealt with."

"Well," said Jarik, "I intend to retire him. I would like you to replace him as Grand Vizier, Orryn. You are the most intelligent person I've ever known and a trusted friend. With you as my counsel, I'm sure that great things can be accomplished."

"And what do you require of me?" said Lei'uri.

"I need you to provide the image of the new empire," said Jarik. "More than any other deity, your goddess, Eilenni, is associated with kindness, caring, decency, justice, and charity. If you, her high priestess in this region, are seen coming to court frequently, people will begin to believe that the empire is taking a turn for the better. Also, I need you to send word out to other temples of Eilenni throughout the continent. Your goddess is the patron of paladins, and I wish for paladins to replace the empire's roving patrol units. I want my citizens to begin seeing the law enforcement as selfless heroes sworn to protect them instead of fearing them as petty, sadistic oppressors."

Jarik leaned back in his chair and removed some scrolls from his jacket, handing one to each of his three companions. "My coronation ceremony is in two days. I have reserved court seats for the three of you directly in the front. I hope you will all be able to attend."

"I'll be there," said Donnar, "But I wish you hadn't invited me. That ceremony turns my stomach. You're a brave man to have your hand lopped off like that and replaced by that grisly, embalmed artifact. It's a disgusting custom, Jarik; barbaric and hideous."

"Ewww!" Lei'uri squirmed in her seat. "Why must you replace your natural hand with that horrid thing anyway, Jarik? I know it's tradition but surely as emperor you have the power change that."

"It's more than just tradition, dear," said Orryn. "That mummified hand is an extremely powerful magical artifact. Ever since Emperor Silrakk first removed it from the ancient tomb he uncovered, all of Naerey's emperors have replaced their left hand with that one during the coronation ceremony. It protects the emperor against poisons and surrounds him with an invisible shield to ward off weaponry. No blade will ever land on the skin of an emperor of Naerey! The hand gives the emperor the ability to communicate with a select group of people telepathically across any distance. And that is only the beginning. It is a treasure to the empire and its rulers. And most importantly, it confers knowledge. The hand, once magically grafted to a person's arm, cannot be removed until death. It is said that at the time of death, the hand gains the knowledge and memories of the former owners and makes it available to the new owner. Jarik will have the knowledge and memories of every emperor since Silrakk; that's nearly three hundred years!"

"Three hundred years of what, Orryn," exclaimed Donnar, "The knowledge and memories of tyrants? Who knows what horrors they've witnessed! And as for their knowledge, it's the knowledge of evil men, and I say no good can come of it."

"Knowledge is neither good nor evil intrinsically, but in its application, my friend," said Jarik, "The hand will serve us well. That said, I bid you good night, dear friends. I've a lot of preparation tomorrow and I'll need my rest."

The immense courtyard of the imperial palace was packed with a sea of spectators. Citizens from every level of society had come in droves to see the coronation of their new emperor. Pushing their way through the crowd, Orryn, Lei'uri, and Donnar approached a guard tower and presented their invitations.

The imperial guard nodded, then snapped to attention and saluted. "Welcome to the palace, good lords and lady. I will show you to your reserved seats."

The guard escorted them through the massive throng of commoners crowding the entrance to the vast audience hall and brought them beyond the guarded railings separating the plush seats in the front of the hall from the larger common area. The three friends followed their guide to the very front of the chamber and took their seats amidst a hobnobbing group of the empire's most elite, wealthy, and influential families and individuals.

On the large wooden stage before them lay the lavishly decorated coffin with the corpse of Jarik's late father resting inside its silk-lined cavity. Positioned a few feet left of the coffin was a trapezoidal block of marble with a keen-edged, bejeweled broadsword laying atop its bloodstained surface. The Captain of the Imperial Guard stood dutifully behind it, his shrewd eyes playing over the crowded hall. Just beyond was a richly decorated throne. Jarik was seated here, silently taking in the multitude come to see his ceremony, with the elderly Grand Vizier, Velte, standing tall to his right in an elegant, flowing violet robe.

When the hall was finally filled to capacity, Velte raised his great oaken staff and pounded it on the hollowed wooden boards of the stage three times. The thunderous booms reverberated throughout the audience hall and the crowd grew silent. Velte then walked to the front of the stage, obviously basking in the attention.

"Lords, ladies, and citizens of Naerey," he shouted, "Welcome to the imperial palace! This day marks the beginning of a new age for our empire. Our former emperor is gone from this world and we gather today to crown his son, Jarik of Naerey, as our new ruler!"

"According to the custom decreed nearly three hundred years ago by the great Emperor Silrakk, our new emperor will sacrifice his left hand and accept in its place the magical one discovered by Silrakk in an ancient tomb unearthed while excavating the great canal that runs through the lands of Albruen. For many years, this magical hand has been the symbol of our empire's might, lending knowledge and insight to our rulers; empowering and protecting them."

Velte then handed his staff to the Captain of the Guard and approached the former emperor's coffin. Withdrawing a platinum-bladed dagger from his sash, he reached into the coffin, held up the left arm of his deceased lord, and severed from it the ancient, mummified hand. That done, Velte knelt before the marble block and retrieved his staff.

Jarik rose from the throne and solemnly moved to the other side of the marble block. Kneeling, he placed his left arm upon the bloodstained surface, his hand clenched in a fist. The Captain of the Guard raised the decorated broadsword high above his head, and in a single, practiced stroke, expertly removed Jarik's left hand from his wrist.

Jarik bit hard on his lips, determined not to scream from the pain as he watched his hand fall off the marble block onto the floorboards. As the blood from his wrist spread over the surface, he looked up at Velte and nodded.

Velte brought the wretched hand near the stump of Jarik's arm. As it came closer, Jarik could feel the magical energy coming from it, almost as if it were exerting some strange magnetic pull, beckoning his arm closer and closer. Jarik stared, speechless, in horror as the gray, sinewy, withered flesh mingled and became one with his own muscles; the putrescent green veins and arteries growing fat and pulsating with the sudden surge of his warm blood filling their cavities. He watched as the ages-dead skin grew together with his own, leaving no scar; only a gradual change in color from his own olive hue to the pale gray of death. He suddenly felt a tingling in the fingertips, as if this hand were his very own. He could feel the wet of the remaining blood on the surface of the marble block and the cool, gentle breeze making its way through his new fingers.

Then came the voice.

At first a barely audible whisper, it soon grew into a strong, raspy presence inside his mind.

Now, that wasn't so bad after all, was it?

"Who are you? A wicked soul imprisoned within the hand? This is my body and my mind, knave! I'll fight you well! You'll not find me easy prey!"

Hah! An interesting assumption, but incorrect. The hand has no life of its own; it's just a very powerful magical artifact. I have always been here, Jarik. I am that part of your own personality which you've long deceived yourself into believing does not exist. I am the voice of dark reason, the speaker of truths you'd prefer to deny, your only defense against self-willed ignorance. For decades you've hidden me away; imprisoned within the fathoms of your subconscious, my very existence forgotten by your strong denial. The hand's magic simply served as a key, unshackling me and guiding me to the surface; giving renewed strength to my voice. And just in the nick of time, too. I have your attention now, and I'll no longer be muted! Your plans will bring us to ruin. You must listen to me lest you destroy us!

"My plans will breathe new life into the empire, lead us into a greater age! We've strayed far from our original destiny and we must return to that path or slowly wither from the corruption and depravity! I will not listen to you. If I managed to subdue you in my childhood, then I can subdue you again. I have no ear for your arguments, my course is clearly marked."

You WILL hear me; fool! Even with your friends you cannot hope to succeed. Do you think the cruelty of the empire is rooted entirely in the throne? I'm not just speaking of Velte, either. For centuries there have been powerful forces at work in the shadows of this land. These forces have mingled throughout every stratum of our society. They are in the temples, the army and the imperial guard. They control the merchant guilds and hold sway in the courts. There are many who have come to great profit through foul deeds. They will not simply remain idle as you try to remove their power. Your friendly gestures to your cousins in the house of Imviaad will be seen as weakness to be exploited, or even worse, a threat to be extinguished!

"What would you have us do, then?"

Follow the example of our father, our grandfather, and their fathers before them. There are too many who will be unsettled by the proposed changes. Show no weakness; show that their emperor is their ally. There is an excellent opportunity to cement that image in the near future. There have been rumors of trouble lately in the realm of the ancient dragon Nehwim just east of us. His rebellious slaves have been hiding in caves on our lands. Nehwim will welcome an alliance with the empire and be more than willing to show his appreciation if we were to hunt down his escaped slaves and teach them how costly it is to betray a master. With the dragon indebted to us, our army can sweep across Imviaad and defeat your estranged family. King Duret's head can be decorating your wall by next winter if we move swiftly! That will show your supporters that they can trust you. And they will make you into a hero for reclaiming the empire's stolen lands!

"Deceiver! You seek to trick me into unnecessary warfare, claiming self-preservation. How many lives will be lost for the possibility of saving my neck from a faceless, unverified threat? Righteousness must prevail. There has already been too much bloodshed. Evil has no place in my empire."

Again you show your vast ignorance. Do you wish to stop the bloodshed? Ties are too strained for diplomacy to solve the issue. The bloodshed will only stop when there is no more blood to spill. Spill it all, and peace will inevitably ensue. You speak of good, and of righteousness. You say that evil has no place. But good exists only as a reaction to an evil that has come to power through its own merits. Without an evil to rail against, good is obsolete. Where will heroes come from if they aren't needed, who will they save if there are no victims?

You spoke to your friends about the virtue of selflessness, but I ask you who is more selfless? Is it the glorified hero who hurls himself boldly into battle for the benefit of his helpless, impersonal admirers? Or the wicked tyrant whose cruelty provides these heroes with their raison d'etre, spurs them to action through foul deeds and brings the heroes out of their hidey-holes; knowing well that his only reward for creating these champions will be a blackening of his name in the history books? Both will eventually die, but whose sacrifice is greater? You know I speak the truth, Jarik. You know what must be done...

"NEVER!!!!!!!"

Jarik's sudden, furious outburst shocked the crowd and echoed into every corner of the palace. Exhausted, his muscles gave way and he rolled onto his back, breathing heavily. The Captain of the Guard rushed to his side. Cradling Jarik in his arms, he carried his young emperor to the throne and settled him gently on its cushion.

"I've heard that receiving the hand can be a traumatic experience, but this is my first time seeing it," said the Captain. "Hoping I'll find my grave before I ever need see it again. How do you fare, my liege?"

Jarik's eyes came sharply into focus and he was once again aware of his surroundings. Straining, he turned his attention to the Captain. "Tired and weak, but I think I will be fine. It's over now. Yes, I've won. I can sense that he's gone. He's finally gone."

Velte walked swiftly to Jarik's side, placing the imperial crown upon his brow. "You've done very well, sire. This is my third coronation ceremony, you know. Never have I seen such strength. You held up much better than your father and grandfather combined! You do your family proud, Jarik."

With that, Velte turned to the crowd of spectators. Once again, he pounded his staff three times on the wooden stage and shouted, "I now present to you His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Jarik of Naerey! All hail Jarik of Naerey!"

The crowd stood and burst into wild applause, shouting, "Hail, Jarik of Naerey!" again and again until Velte's staff returned them to silence.

Velte turned to address the young emperor. "Does his majesty have any first words for his subjects?"

Jarik's eyes swept over the crowd, eventually settling on his three friends. Orryn, Lei'uri, and Donnar were smiling proudly at him, their palms worn crimson from their fierce applause.

"Yes, I do," said Jarik.

His mouth formed a wry smile as he gestured towards his friends. "These three here in the front, please execute them immediately."

THE END
***************************************************************************

Last edited by Qmaus on Thu Feb 15, 2007 7:36 pm, edited 3 times in total.

What a surprise there at the end! ...and that hand, well that creeps me out beyond imagination. When I first started reading it, I wondered to myself if you'd heard of a Vlad Taltos before as the setting kind of reminded me of those stories, but wow yours definately had some interesting twists in it.

However, even though I like you lots and lots, I'm sorry. They're toast. All three of em. I wrote this particular story with the mind that the end was, well, the end. Never gave much thought into developing those three friends any more than I did because their entire purpose, to me, was to provide something to portray that Jarik had, in fact, lost the battle to his inner "Mr. Hyde", and would rule just as his fathers had ruled for centuries.

Thank you all for the lovely comments. I'm glad you liked the story. (I will assume those who read and didn't comment were just too crunched for time, yet still liked it. That will help me to retain some semblance of self-worth )

As for other installments, I do have a few other stories concerning other characters in my little d&d world, but they have remained "in my head" for years, LOL. I suppose I could try to flesh them out a bit if you're interested, but there may be some time between posts / installments.

I did have one story in particular I have wanted to write for years, but it'd be more like a novel in length, LOL. If I decided to actually post it, I would likely do so little by little, only a chapter at a time or so.

I'll let you guys know if I'm able to do it. Either that or i'll just post it and wait for you to find it, hehe.

OMG THERE IS NOT CLOSURE! WRU Hero? WRU person who gets the hand taken to some far off desert & buried for someone else to find in the sequel???

There's closure in this "chapter" sure, but come on Qmaus, you can't let evil reign! Well okay for a while perhaps (like the White witch and her 200 years of winter) but not forever! Arrrggghhh! You're killing me here! Oh I have a great idea for the hero, how about a plate-clad elven woman who's name rhymes with Billy?

Seriously though, I do like the story very much and think there's lots of room to expand if you have the desire to do so (this is my hint at "you should continue it").

LOL, well Silly, this story's timeline actually takes place about 300 or so (I forget exactly, will have to look at my notes) years prior to the time in which my old d&d campaigns were held. At that time 300 years after this story, the empire was still being ruled by wicked emperors bearing the hand.

I wrote an entire history and timeline for my game world when I created it. Anyway, I think if I were to continue with stories, it would likely be the big one i've had for years in my head. That one would also be somewhat historical, so to speak, but I think a fairly intriguing concept. It would tie in slightly with this one, but only because the first few chapters would be background stuff that happens before the main character is even born.

It would, however, include a brief bit about Emperor Silrakk uncovering the hand in the first place, however. That discovery, as well as the other two powerful items discovered in the same chamber as the hand (I'll keep that secret for now) have alot to do with changing the face of the game world I created. As for Emperor Silrakk, even though he started out good and (due to the hand) eventually became evil, he is probably the most noteworthy and greatest emperor that Naerey has ever known, so I think it'll be nice for people to get a slight glimpse of him, rather than just always hearing about him.

All for another time, however. I'm thinking if I intend to do this, I ought to provide some better reference material for prospective readers, like the map to the continent and perhaps my history of it.

And as for evil reigning, hehe, my game world was always a bit grim. Good had it's definite strongholds, but I think one of the things that my friends liked so much was the fact that they knew some of the realms they ventured through were places where they couldn't get away with doing questionable things, other places were places where they had to blend in and attract no notice because of the evil rulers, and other places were in-between places where laws existed but because of corruption, the law could be skirted if you had the right connections.

My primary city, Vaidokker, was perhaps one of the most advanced places in the continent, both in terms of education and magic, as well as in terms of civil rights, etc. Vaidokker is primarily a trade-dependent city, and really isn't good or evil, per se. Most of the government is more concerned with economics than with morals (or lack of morals). It's one of the few cities on the continent where half-orcs and dark elves are able to walk freely as citizens and even attain public office. All alignments are represented there, and even when the city senate is not in session, you can find the high priestess of Eilenni (the paladin's goddess) having dinner with the Guildmaster of the Assassin's guild. Even though they see things from very different perspectives, they are also both senators, and so they have that much in common. I've always been proud of Vaidokker. I spent alot of time making it into an intriguing place for characters of good or evil or neutral bent alike.

I've had a good amount of downtime at work lately, so I've been bringing
my flash drive with me and working on Chapter One of the novel I
mentioned. The novel is simply titled "Lioldra", and the first chapter is
currently about halfway finished. I intend to finish off the other half of it
and then probably spend a bit of time polishing / editing, etc., but
hopefully I won't need to go through too many drafts before I feel it is
ready for posting.

Anyway, be prepared to see it here on the boards (hopefully) within the
next few weeks.

I'd like to at least get this chapter and possibly a few more finished and
posted before February rolls around and the tax season causes me to
start working like a mule again at work. There will likely be little to nothing
added between February 1st and the end of April. My shift only has 15
people, and we're going to be responsible for tracking the income tax
information for approximately one-third of all US taxpayers. That's a huge
project, LOL!

So hopefully I will be able to write enough before that time to keep
everyone sated through the tax season when I can return to the project.

This is quality writing Qmaus, you are very talented. You should take your manuscripts to have them read by the Dark Realm ( I think they are called) publishers. I do read some of those and yours is as good as or better than a majority of them. I noticed they do advertise in the back of the book requesting their audience to submit short stories.
How many authors never really think they will ever be published or just never occurs to them at first to try? Alot I bet.

Wow Q that was most excellant. I am an avid reader, I read at least 3 books a week or whatever I can get my hands on. If I didnt work I would read more. Although I was tricked in the end bravo to you that was great. I love how you describe enough to make the point but not 10 pages to describe one room hehe, oh wait that is steven king. I cant wait to read more.

Ty Groth. Wow, been so long since I've written. The other stories in this section are early chapters for the novel that CN friends actually inspired me to bring to "paper" from my mind. I continued the story after my EQ "retirement" (which is now, obviously not a permanent retirement). Unfortunately, I stopped working on it when I came to the end of the 11th Chapter and got writer's block...I just couldn't seem to find the right words/actions to move events in a manner that would allow me to finish that chapter with the big event I planned for it. And in recent years...life has just not afforded me the opportunity to return to thinking about it again. But who knows? Maybe someday soon. CN managed to successfully encourage me once, maybe it'll happen again.

A suggestion.... Just write it. Make the character(s) change their motivations, or put in something for comedy relief, or a travesty occurs. Whatever. Have your serious character go to the antagonist or protagonist and say he/she/it is having their child. Or ...but the main thing is to just write. Don't get hung up on it being the perfect awesome plot twist or the onslaught of a horde of ondead....just write.